


Stupid Questions

by RussianWitch



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:55:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22860607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RussianWitch/pseuds/RussianWitch
Summary: Domestic interlude in the lab.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 8
Kudos: 40
Collections: Exchange Of Hell





	Stupid Questions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FourCornersHolmes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FourCornersHolmes/gifts).



> Part of Discord fic exchange.

“Don’t you dare!” Steve hisses poking his toe in Dummy’s direction as the robot tries to inch closer to the couch. 

On his chest, Tony twitches, mumbles something wetly against Steve’s shirt and falls into a deeper sleep with a snore.

The robots mean well, Steve knows, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t perfectly capable of waking their creator up just as he’s catching up on his sleep.

For a decrepit monstrosity, the couch at the very back of Tony’s workshop is surprisingly comfortable. Steve wonders at the story behind it, the stains and worn patches that go unfixed despite Pepper and Rhodey’s clear disapproval.

Steve has gotten acquainted with the couch very well after Tony and he became a—thing, a Tony and him. 

The genius twitches and tries to roll over and almost manages to knee Steve in the balls.

Wedging his notebook and pencil behind the couch’s pillows, Steve rubs Tony’s back until the other man settles down again going back to drooling on Steve’s shirt.

Tony doesn’t sleep very well, especially in the dark in enclosed spaces. 

Steve can relate, he dislikes the cold these days and large bodies of water.

“Capcicle…” Tony mumbles, “bounce a quarter off…” wiggling up to snore into Steve’s ear, “ass.” 

Steve presses his lips to Tony’s forehead humming until the genius goes back to snoring. He’d like to fall asleep as well but his body doesn’t need much rest and naps are just a fond memory. It would be nice, Steve imagines, to wake up together or even fall off the couch together.

Domesticity is a novelty.

The amount of  _ space  _ people have and take for granted, the  _ options _ . Steve had been aware there was a lot more to food than potatoes and cabbage soup and the occasional hotdog but the variety still blows his mind.

Tony makes a sport out of introducing him to all kinds of international cooking, usually by ambushing Steve with takeout the price of which Steve prefers not to contemplate.

New foods.

New ideas.

New dangers.

New laws.

The compass with Peggy’s picture lives in the bedside drawer in the apartment Tony had furnished especially for him in the tower on the floor shared by all of the Avengers. 

Steve remembers wanting to wait for a quiet moment, the end of the war or at the very least a sign that it was coming to an end that they would make it so he wouldn’t be making promises he wouldn’t be able to keep. 

He’d asked for a dance while putting the plane down in the arctic all the while regretting not asking long before.

He doesn’t want to make the same mistake again.

“God, you smell good,” Tony mumbles into the crook of Steve’s neck, “how do you always smell good?” He gropes his way up Steve’s side to pull the collar of Steve’s t-shirt down to mouth at the skin below Steve’s collarbone. 

“Did you forget breakfast again?” Steve asks throwing a leg over Tony’s hip to keep the engineer from rolling off.

“Second breakfast is a thing.” 

Tony’s beard scratches pleasantly, even the sting of his teeth when they sink in is good. Steve shivers combing his fingers through Tony’s hair.

“Tony.” His last conversation with Peggy replaying in his mind Steve sits up ignoring Tony’s whine of protest as he’s shifted into Steve’s lap.

“Tony—let’s—,” he doesn’t have a ring or any idea how it’s done these days or any idea if Tony even wants to, “let’s get married!”

The engineer freezes. 

Tony’s face goes through a string of complicated expressions, his mouth opening, and closing but no words coming out for a change. 

Steve is regretting saying anything when Tony’s nails dig into his shoulders.

“What did you just say?” Tony demands.

“I—,” taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders, “I want to marry you!” He repeats.

Tony squirms, wrinkling his nose and… ”that’s not a good idea.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s not the right one,” Steve says.

“Steve—Steven—Stevie—you,” Tony stutters his hands dancing over Steve’s shoulders and chest with nervous energy.

He avoids Steve’s eyes and Steve  _ knows _ what’s coming next.

“Don’t say you ain’t good enough for me, ‘cause I’ll thump you if you do!” He growls before Tony can finish the speech he’s gearing up for.

“Maybe I should go get Bruce? Just—you know, check for alien energies, head bumps—” Tony’s fingers hook into the collar of Steve’s t-shirt swaying in indecision.

“Am I that bad a prospect?” Steve asks.

“You? No! You’re fine! Who wouldn’t want to marry Captain America?” Tony huffs and Steve goes cold.

“I hoped you wouldn’t be opposed to marrying Steve Rogers.” He’d thought they were past hero worship and bad first impressions.

“Damn it, Steve! You’re supposed to come to your senses! Not take it personally!” He cups Steve’s face to kiss him roughly. “Of course I want to marry you! Steve Rogers you! The guy who leaves notebooks and drawing pencils over the place and lets me drool on—Dum-E NO!” 

Tony lunges out of Steve’s grasp at the same time a loud bang echoes through the workshop and Steve’s world turns sparkly.

“Dum-E!” Tony howls, waving his arms like a maniac and something squeaks mournfully as one his robots blows a noisemaker in his face while the other throws more glittering stuff in their direction. 

Despite his disappointment at Tony’s hesitation, Steve can’t help laugh catching Tony’s ankle right before it connects with his ribs to hold on to until the engineer stops squirming and looks back at him in horror.

“I think you’ve been outvoted, Tony,” Steve says biting his back another laugh at the way Tony’s goatee now sparkles with his every move.

“They are hopeless romantics! Pepper’s bad influence!” Tony sighs shaking like a wet dog and getting hit in the ear with a noisemaker.

“Absolutely horrible,” Steve agrees.

“There is going to be glitter for decades now, you realize?” Tony whines twisting to flop against Steve’s side his doubt momentarily forgotten. 

“I’m sure you can invent something to deal with it,” Steve says throwing an arm around Tony’s shoulders while running the other through the man’s beard to try and shake out some more of the glitter.

“You want to marry me,” Tony says batting at Steve’s hand.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, grabbing the waving hand to lace their fingers together.

“That’s—that’s definitely—yeah,” he trails off, “get Pepper to organize—do I need my social security number to—? She’ll know, Pep knows everything!” 

He falls silent staring at Steve like he’s seeing him for the first time.

“Tony, is that a yes?” Steve asks carefully.

Tony’s kiss is somewhat gritty, glitter sticking to his lips and shedding from his mustache and beard, his grip tightening on Steve’s hand.

“That’s—that’s definitely a yes!” 


End file.
